


Bevor die Sonne wieder lacht

by Menfinske



Series: Prompt fills [4]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Bonfires, M/M, Marshmallows, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24473206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menfinske/pseuds/Menfinske
Summary: During a nice spring evening, Richard is enjoying a bonfire by the side of the bus with his bandmembers.He decides to ensure Paul's fingers don't burn from his attempts to roast marshmallows. If only Richard knew how sweet those Marshmallows would turn out to be.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Paul Landers
Series: Prompt fills [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689496
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44
Collections: Rammstein - Bonfire - May Prompt





	Bevor die Sonne wieder lacht

**Author's Note:**

> This is not so much a genuine prompt fill as this month's challenge of 'Bonfire', but I shall still add it to the series regardless :D

The fire is crackling, providing a cosy background noise for the six men gathered around it’s warmth. It’s late spring and while it had been warm all day, there is a nip in the air with night approaching. Flake specifically is sitting close to the fire for its heat, hands around his knees and deep in conversation about something with Till and Schneider. Till is grinning happily, a stick in his hand with which he pokes the fire if he deems it to be dying too much, clearly enjoying whatever story Flake is telling. Schneider is enjoying it even more, quite literally doubled over from laughter. Oliver sits next to him, glancing at Schneider as if disbelieving why he finds it quite so funny.

Richard would be lying if he said he agreed or disagreed with Oliver’s puzzlement. He honestly hadn’t caught enough of the words to weave them into a sensible story. He’s pleasantly buzzed from the alcohol earlier and he’s watching Paul repeatedly threaten to burn his tongue and his fingers while roasting marshmallows very impatiently.

Richard snickers to himself before he stretches out languidly. The noise of his snickers, however, appears to attract Paul’s attention. He turns his head to glance at Richard with a stupid grin on his face, still some marshmallow in his mouth while he’s already impaling the next soft pillow onto the stick he’d confiscated for this exact purpose.

“Don’t stick your hand in- there blindly,” Richard trails off at the last two words, since Paul had paid his caution absolutely no heed and had stuck his hand out a little too far. He pouts unhappily, blowing on the spot where the flames had been slightly too close. Fortunately, at least, he seems to be less drunk than Richard had feared and is able to pull his hand back quickly enough that Paul’s pout only lasts for a hot second before he’s grinning again and sticking his hand out.

“Don’t do that. Give it to me,” Richard protests, reaching for the stick in Paul’s hands. Paul only holds onto it more tightly as a result though, eyes wide as he believes Richard is stealing his marshmallows. “Oh come on. You know I don’t like them. I’m not stealing them, just making sure you don’t lose your fingers.”

“Aww, do you care about my fingers, Reesh?” Paul chuckles now, suddenly looking cheerful as he relinquishes control of the stick to Richard.

“You’re a guitarist. Our guitarist. Of course I don’t want you to lose your fingers,” Richard responds drily, holding the marshmallow over the fire with a lot more patience than Paul had. Paul merely chuckles in response, taking a swig from the bottle of beer that was next to him and looking up at the sky happily. Richard looks at the happy smile taking shape on Paul’s face as he does so.

Richard likes that smile. It’s a rare one. Paul forgetting where he is for just a moment. Letting himself relax and trusting that nobody will come for him right in that moment. Normally he is either too energetic to relax enough for it or he’s cautious not to show his vulnerability. Sometimes it saddens Richard to think that Paul finds it so hard to simply.. simply relax.

Richard glances away from Paul to glance at the marshmallow before it catches on fire. It had already happened a handful of times tonight, Paul poking the marshmallow as close to the flame as humanly possible in an attempt to melt it faster before wind would play with the flames or Till would stir the fire or he’d simply not focus on holding his arm up enough.

Actually, it surprises Richard that Till isn’t also roasting marshmallows. Not because Till seemed very convinced of the taste when Paul had convinced him to try one early in the evening, but because Till had very enthusiastically poked a marshmallow into the fire with the sole purpose of watching it burn until no marshmallow at all was left. He’d seemed especially intrigued about the blue flames, holding it entirely too close to his face as he wondered why it was burning blue.

Richard retracts the marshmallow from the fire, poking it to determine if it’s sufficiently soft before holding out the stick in Paul’s direction, making his dreamy face reform into a happy smile when Paul notices and looks excited about another marshmallow to eat.

“Watch out. It’s still hot,” Richard cautions, though he doesn’t expect Paul to heed his warning. Indeed, Paul reaches for the marshmallow happily, then pulls a face when it’s too hot in his hands. “You can just let it cool, you know? It won’t become hard again instantly.”

“Unlike when you see someone sexy, huh?” Paul laughs about his own joke, clearly very much amused. “Also- I can’t let it cool down, because then I won’t have another marshmallow soon.” Ah. That actually does explain why Paul is being such an idiot about eating the marshmallows while they’re still scolding hot.

“Here, take the stick then,” Richard says, reaching into the cooler bag to produce another one. Paul’s eyes widen when he sees it, clearly not having realized they’d brought the sticks instead of- well, magically forming them out of nowhere. Paul happily takes the stick from Richard, placing his marshmallow back on it and blowing to cool it down.

Richard impales the next marshmallow with the new stick, holding it over the fire and watching his other bandmates. It would appear that someone had gone into the bus without Richard realizing, because Flake now has a blanket hung across his shoulders. Schneider is making fun of him for not being sufficiently warmed by the fire and Till is setting leaves on fire, threatening them close to Flake’s blanket to ‘help him warm up properly’. Flake hits him with a flyswatter each time he does, one time making the burning leaf fall on Till’s toe, though the big man hardly seems bothered by it beyond kicking his foot to get rid of it. And truthfully? Richard isn’t even sure whether to put it down to masochism, used to getting burned or drunkenness.

“Reesh?” Paul asks, drawing Richard’s attention away from them again.

“Yeah?”

“This is a very good marshmallow.” Richard can’t help but chuckle at the sincerity with which Paul states this.

“Perhaps that’s because you finally waited for it to cool down enough to actually taste it instead of just burn your tongue.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps it has a secret ingredient.”

“A secret ingredient?”

“Yeah. Like sometimes people say. When you make a food for someone. And then they add something but won’t tell what because then that person becomes happy if you make it, like it’s special and not something they could make every day by themselves.”

“You’re rambling Paul,” Richard smiles, reaching out to ruffle Paul’s hair a little. “You can’t have a secret ingredient here. It’s not a recipe. It’s poking a marshmallow onto a stick and holding it above the fire. Preferably without it catching on fire and burning. Actually- maybe that’s what you taste. Lack of a bitter taste because this one didn’t catch on fire.”

Paul laughs happily himself now, shuffling closer to Richard and leaning his head on Richard’s shoulder. Richard switches the hand with which he’s holding the stick to wrap his arm around Paul. They sit like that in silence, watching Paul’s next marshmallow beginning to take on a nicely golden brown colour as the outer layer caramelizes in the heat.

“Want to trade sticks?” Richard asks when it appears to be sufficiently roasted and softened. Paul nods happily, sitting up a little and holding the empty stick out for Richard to take. Richard does, holding out the stick with the newly gooey marshmallow for Paul to take after removing his hand from around Paul’s shoulder.

Richard takes a new marshmallow out of the bag. Clearly Paul had expected more people than just himself to like the gooey sweetness, since it’s such a large bag Paul isn’t even a quarter of the way through.

“We’d best hope a nip stays in the air. Then you can enjoy them the rest of the week by the looks of it,” Richard states, pushing the marshmallow onto the stick and reaching it out into the fire again.

“A candle works too if the nip doesn’t stay in the air.”

“Oh god, no. You’re already dangerously impatient with the whole fire. Can’t imagine how often the marshmallows are going to catch flame if that happens,” Richard quickly shakes his head. Paul makes an indignant noise, elbowing Richard’s side.

“I am not impatient. And I think I can be allowed to handle a candle. I’m not a child.”

“Mh, are we sure? You’re not exactly grown-man height. Perhaps you simply lied to us about your age and you’re secretly 11 years old,” Richard teases, grinning as Paul makes a large and dramatic pout, even if he can’t _quite_ stop the corners of his lips from curling just the slightest bit up.

“I am not a child. And I am not 11. Actually, I am older than you. So for all rights and purposes- I should be the one making fun of you, not the other way around.”

“Oh, should you now? You see- the thing is, you can make fun of me. Make fun of me all you want. But see about getting those extra tasty marshmallows then,” Richard threatens, wiggling the stick in his hands very much away from the fire.

“Now that is just not fair,” Paul huffs, crossing his arms. “You are the one who insisted on making the marshmallows. You can’t give a man a spoonful of water and then cut the tap.”

“That- is not a saying,” Richard chuckles. “And I most certainly can. Watch me,” Richard says, bringing his fingers to the marshmallow that luckily hasn’t been over the fire long enough to become scalding hot and pulling on it, making some of the gooey substance separate from the rest and putting it in his mouth.

“Oh, you would not dare to do that again,” Paul narrows his eyes suspiciously. Richard brings his fingers to the marshmallow again, pulling the remainder of. Before he can bring it to his own mouth, however, Paul’s fingers circle around Richard’s wrist and pull it towards himself again, wrapping his lips around Richard’s fingers and suckling the goodness off of them.

Richard freezes when Paul’s lips around Richard’s fingers, watches in stunned surprise when Paul begins to lick along Richard’s fingers for the more sticky strings clinging to Richard’s fingers. Paul, on his part, seems entirely unaware of Richard’s reaction, smirking happily when he glances back up.

“See. My marshmallows,” he proudly exclaims, throwing his hands up victoriously. “Try to steal my marshmallows again, I dare you. The same thing will happen.” Richard remains silent, not knowing what to say in response. His throat feels dry but he feels his lips begin to move on their own accord.

“Maybe I should steal them, then.” Richard closes his eyes, wanting to slap himself against his forehead. Yes, his lips most certainly didn’t have permission to speak those words. Why did they even form those words? What’s wrong with him.

Richard glances away quickly. Well- he glances away as soon as his brain catches up and allows him to unfreeze. He grabs a new marshmallow from the bag, putting it on the end of the stick and holding it above the fire. His mind is empty except for the visual of the marshmallow above the fire and ensuring it stays above it. His heartrate seems accelerated and he doesn’t know what to do, especially when Paul calmly leans his head back on top of Richard’s shoulder.

“Hey Reesh?” Paul asks. Richard blinks a few times before turning his face slightly to glance at Paul. “It’s taking too long.” Richard laughs happily, glad to be distracted from the earlier moment by Paul’s silly complaint.

“Well, I can light it on fire. It’ll be bitter but it’ll be fast,” Richard responds, lowering the stick. Paul squeals and reaches out to stop Richard’s hand from going further down.

“I like sweet better, thanks.”

“Well, you’ll just have to be patient then,” Richard grins, placing a peck on Paul’s forehead. Paul remains silent but he gives Richard a big, dramatic pout before leaning even further into Richard. “It’s a good thing we’re not marshmallows. I’m sure we’d actually be glued together with you leaning into me like this while we’re near fire.”

“That would be something,” Paul laughs happily. “Hey Oli! Aren’t you happy we’re not marshmallows? If we were glued together we’d only need one side of the stage. You’d have to get out of the corner.” Oliver looks very confused about the statement, clearly not having heard Richard’s joke.

“Thanks for not being marshmallows?” Paul laughs even louder about Oliver’s dry response and Richard can’t help but laugh with him, his laughter so infectious.

“Here,” Richard says, the amusement still very clear and present in his voice as he retreats the gooey, golden marshmallow from the fire and holds the stick out for Paul. Paul beams happily as he accepts it, handing Richard the empty stick he’d been holding onto in exchange.

Richard has just taken a new marshmallow from the bag and put it on the end of the stick when the other four begin to rise up. Till looks at the two guitarists and the bag of marshmallows.

“I’ll assume you’re going to stay out here and will douse the fire later?” Till asks for confirmation.

“Yes,” Paul replies before Richard can. Till glances at the two of them curiously before a large smile forms on his face. Richard can’t help but wonder what it is about, though Till doesn’t explain anything. Instead, he turns around towards the door of the bus and holds up a hand as a sort of goodbye wave.

Brushing Till’s look off, Richard holds the new marshmallow over the fire, enjoying the newly found calm of the environment. Now the only sound really is the crackling of the fire. It’s peaceful and Richard easily finds a smile spreading on his face.

They both remain silent while Richard roasts a handful more marshmallows, handing each one to Paul who very happily eats them up. Actually- that makes some noise, as Paul’s drunkenness and lack of people watching him causes him to eat with his mouth open. Richard’s smile spreads even wider at it.

“I like being out here with you,” Paul states after several silent minutes.

“I like being out here too,” Richard agrees.

“Yeah, but I like being out here with you specifically,” Paul chuckles. “Not in general. It gets boring in general.” Richard glances at Paul’s face, still resting against his shoulder.

“Oh,” Richard doesn’t know what else to say and Paul chuckles some more.

“You’re pleasant company. Plus you’re an excellent chef.”

“A chef?” Richard questions. “Because I’m roasting marshmallows. You have very low expectations of a chef if you feel like I make them extra tasty and am a good chef for being able to hold one thing above the fire with enough patience not to burn it.”

“Ah yes. I don’t think everyone agrees with m having low expectations. You should tell Schneider,” Paul laughs full-on now, removing his head from Richard’s shoulders and leaning forward, glancing at the fire. Or, more likely, Richard supposes, glancing at the roasting marshmallow.

“It’s good to have high expectations for some things,” Richard shrugs.

“Yeah. I suppose you would know that just as well as I do. It’d suck to not be proud of the music you put out into the world.”

“Indeed,” Richard nods his agreement. He then watches a very mischievous grin form on Paul’s face and Richard already braces himself for whatever is coming.

“So wouldn’t you agree I should be lead guitarist? We both know I’m far more talented than you are. You really are just here for the looks,” Paul teases. Richard arches a brow, bringing the marshmallow in and, instead of handing it to Paul or making the mistake of putting it on his fingers like earlier, bites a piece off before holding the rest behind him.

Paul’s eyes widen at the blatant betrayal, eyes darting between the remainder of the marshmallow behind Richard and the bit that he’s cautiously holding between his teeth, not wanting to burn his tongue. He then narrows his eyes before surging forward. Richard switches the stick into his other hand, afraid that Paul would aim to steal that, when he falls backward because Paul clearly had decided that the other piece could wait and this was at more risk of disappearing once sufficiently cooled down enough.

Richard is pressed into the ground while Paul straddles him, bringing his own lips closer to bring them around the marshmallow still dangling from Richard’s lips. Paul’s face is so very close now, his eyes still having that mischievous expression and his mouth rendered invisible from the close proximity. From the fact that his lips are basically pressed against Richard’s with his method of preventing Richard’s food theft.

Richard, once again, is stunned into not being able to move. Why is Paul being like this tonight? Why does he have to be so damn, infuriatingly close. Richard has been trying to keep his distance for the entire two years since they started Rammstein. Why would Paul try to ruin that today?

“Relinquish the marshmallow,” Paul states. Well, he does his best to, anyway, with his teeth around the marshmallow and the stickiness clinging to his lips. Richard narrows his eyes, not one to easily be defeated. Instead he closes his lips further around it. “Oh, now you’ve made a mistake,” Paul murmurs, biting the marshmallow to get it into his mouth without Richard being able to threaten it.

Before Richard can wonder what Paul plans to do now, Paul’s tongue darts past his lips and begins licking at the remainder of the marshmallow still mostly poking out between Richard’s lips. Richard makes an undignified squeal of surprise.

“Paul, what are you doing?” he exclaims. Paul quickly bites into the marshmallow to get it into his own mouth, then sit up and throws his hands in the air victoriously. “Oh, you cheat.”

“No cheating at all. I just grabbed my candy. Why would that be cheating?” Paul asks. Then he takes a pause, watching Richard’s face. His eyes slowly narrow as a smile spreads further on his face. “Oh. Would it be cheating because I would feel something if I were to slide down your body a little further?”

“You are the absolute worst, Paul,” Richard groans. Paul chuckles happily.

“Oh? So then why are you having some trouble?” Richard glares at him and Paul only continues to chuckle just as happily.

“Because you’re infuriating.”

“Oh, is that the reason? You see, if I had three guesses, that would have been none of them. My first would be sexy. My second would be amazing. And the third one would be,” Paul puts his fingers under his chin for a moment. “My third would be the perfect match for you.” Richard looks at Paul’s happy expression, watching the insecurity hidden beneath. His eyes, while smiling happily, slightly cast downwards. His mouth, forming a happy smile, tilting down slightly at the corners. His shoulders slightly risen higher than they had been all evening. Richard considers him slowly.

“Do- do you mean that, Paul?” Richard questions, his hands finding Paul’s sides and shifting him backwards enough that Richard too can sit up, with Paul still in his lap. “Do- Would you be interested in me that way?”

“Yes,” Paul responds, quieter now. “I- it’s been on my mind for a while. I spoke about it with Till a few days ago and.. well, he suggested that you may have been interested too. That perhaps you were looking out for the good of the band by not asking me or anything. And I- I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being dumb,” Paul shakes his head. Richard moves one hand from Paul’s side to his cheek, halting the movement, making Paul look at him instead.

“Then how do you feel like going out on a date sometime this week? Instead of going back to the bus with the guys, find a restaurant?” Richard watches the insecurity dissipate from Paul’s beautiful features.

“I would love that.”

“Good. Then we’ll do that tomorrow. For now- how about we enjoy the privacy of the rest already being in bed?” Richard leans forward, capturing Paul’s lips with his own. No haste. The future might have plenty in store for them in the weeks to come. Richard already can’t keep the smile out of the kiss at the thought of it.


End file.
